Saturday, March 27, 2010

Yea, that's not gonna work

Date #1

Attractive. fewf.

Witty. check.

Successful. that's cool.

Great first date stats. The missing links, two very important things: real conversation...and dinner.
I suggested Old Venice, a charming local Italian restaurant, for a reason...because I was in the mood for a fancy pizza! I totally get the non-committal "let's get a drink thing." I use it all the time! But the whole point of that move is to have the peace-out-early opportunity if the date is going south. If you're staying for another 2 hours anyway, in my humble and almost expert opinion-dinner is a must.
Letting that slide I suppose (until home to left over Indian food at 9:30 at night!) I say nothing. I don't want to be that girl, the one that's possibly disinterested but wants a free meal.
I am quite the fan of banter; likely unqualified as a dating pro, but most definitely a banter pro! My general attitude, bring it on. Until I have had enough! Then I'll throw a few more zingers at ya...then really be done. At one point, in the three hour sesh, I couldn't even tell you the topic of conversation.
Unfortunately Date #1 left me exhausted...and hungry.
Yea, that's not gonna work.

Friday, March 26, 2010

How many blondes...

does it take to describe the blockbuster hit Avatar?

"What's Avatar? "

"What do you live under a rock? Only the biggest movie in the last 30 years!"


"Because of!"

"So it's a technical A Bug's life?"

"Yes. That's right. It's like A Bug's life."

Monday, March 22, 2010

The latin man with which I ate a shrimp ceasar.

With so much to report on the dating front, I struggle to maintain a focal point. You see, there's an epic battle that goes on in my head (among others): to write on one topic and stay (or at least appear) focused OR to throw it all out there and allow you to experience a sufficient part of the mayhem.

In attempt to get to bed at a reasonable hour and less selfishly, protect YOU from establishing an overwhelming disdain for the topic at hand...I will stick to just one thing:

The latin man with which I ate a shrimp ceasar.

On the third of my 4 dates in four days (shout out to the world wide web) I set out on a latin themed adventure. We met at a Mexican restaurant guessed it, Pacific Beach. The crazy part is that I chose the location, and we know how I feel about PB. On my way to the beloved beach town, running late naturally, I sped through neighborhoods and quickly took in the obscene amount of Beer Pong being played. That's neither here nor there I suppose. A lovely intro into the evening I'd soon experience though.

Arrived, met, and onto the good stuff...

Initially I pegged the latin as muy aburrido (very boring). Quite the contrary. As the night went on, I learned more and more muy interesante facts about Senor Latino; where he's lived, that he's a rocket scientist, and oh yea...the fact that he's a total creepo. *I sorta wanted to just say creep as it's the best possible description, but felt it should be more spanish sounding, to fit the theme obviously.

Senor said a few questionable things (purposely in my humble not-so-expert-on-dating opinion) that were not the effect of our fish bowl sized margaritas. I believe they were for an all too familiar attempt to "intrigue" a lady by keeping her wondering what the eff you're talking about. One fine example is the sort of compliment but OH PSYCH YOUR MIND IT"S NOT a compliment technique. A real go-getter.

"Yea your photos were really nice...really nice." Thanks. Thanks? Wait a sec, does that mean I don't look really nice in person? What the hell amigo?
"Yea you're like rocking the heels and stuff." Uh, yes, yes I am. Are you trying to say that you like my heels? No? Okay.

There were also a few awesome "I"m super latin" comments.
"Women shouldn't take jobs away from men who need them to support their families" and then opposing to latin culture but still offensive to women comments like, "I just don't like women in my kitchen. I'm the cook." You can imagine my subtle responses to this sort of dialogue. Lucky for him, tequila makes me sweet (sorta), rather than feisty like vodka does! Yikes.

I have to say that the evening was extremely entertaining and since that would be the only expectation I go into like situations with, I was satisfied, kinda. I did enjoy the over poured beverage and fresh-mex cuisine, I must say.

Friday, March 19, 2010

I'm either...

really terrible...or really, really good at this.

I refer to dating. Let me disclaim right off the bat, that I do not rely on my own strength in this area. No, this is not a biblical reference...I currently rely on 29 dimensions that are bigger than's called "online-dating." Lord, seeing that hyphened word in print is just shameful!

Welp, got over the shame pretty quickly, feeling alright now...
This week I scheduled what I like to call a "Dating Quadruple bypass." The expectation is I'll bypass at least three of the four dates. Nonetheless, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday night all include a beautiful dinner. I'll be doing a real-life, unscripted version of The Bachelor. I definitely won't be telling any of them that I'm "following my heart" or "falling in love with more than one of them"...or any statement involving the word "journey." Instead, I'll be attempting authentic conversation and...well....probably drinking a lot of wine.

One of these gentlemen (Mr. Thursday night) is now on Date 3. The process has been less painful than usual, actually enjoyable, I appreciate that. Date 3 means only one thing, in as charming a way as possible of course:  Hair straightening takes a halt. I'm a busy woman for crying out loud. Four dates?  I'm gonna need some sleep and will not have the extra hour for a flat iron and some sticky Paul Mitchell product. Hope everyone's okay with that. Also, I'm over nibbling through a salad at this point...can I eat some red meat in front of this guy yet?! And the girly Coors Light hoax, I'd prefer the 22 oz Stella, thank you. 
Here goes nothing.  Stay tuned...for more helpful dating hints obviously.

And you're welcome ;)

Thursday, March 11, 2010

It's all so simple isn't it?

"I just want to get to the point where I can be in pajamas, without make up, cuddling on the couch...and farting if I need to."

In a discussion about this evening's date, I expressed this deep desire to one of my brilliant man-friends.

Then I learned something.

His response: "I'm sure he feels the same way...He definitely wants to fart on or around you."



Monday, March 8, 2010


Some get excited when they go to The Home Depot. New projects, the smell of wood, helpful men in aprons...

I however believe that The Home Depot is a little peice of carpenter themed hell (let the irony simmer for a few).

Home Depot in my opinion equals two of my least favorite things: feeling ignorant and splinters. I find myself walking around mumbling,"Hi I'm looking to mount something." Hmmm says the handy orange and denim wearing dad.

I now wait in line to purchase my something "Gage wire"??? I also have been navigating the warehouse with the remainder of the ply wood spilling over every end of my cart, lookin like I'm in the know about such things of course.

I think the confused look on my face along with my houndstooth scarf blew my cover. The jig is up I have no frigen clue what I'm doing here.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

The shower chapter

"Jack of all trades, master of none."
You've heard this before. I like to think of myself as a master of some...just mostly the ones that don't really matter that much. One of my "masteries" that I've written about often is that of being a bridesmaid. You know how I feel about that "always a bridesmaid..." saying. Don't you even complete the sentence in your head! I have been a bridesmaid more than a handful of times. In fact I have an extensive collection of spring hued dresses in my hallway coat closet.
I'd love to write some books one day...lots and lots of books. One of them will be of this very theme, how to be a bridesmaid. I'll address everything from watching out for flirting married groomsmen to being on time for all 10 of the bridal showers (a work in progress for even the best of us).
This particular post is an excerpt from the shower chapter of the future best-seller ;) Not shower like that thing I do twice a week, which is also a key aspect of being a bridesmaid, but instead the bridal shower(s) thrown for the blushing bride.
Knowing as many women as I do (part of the reason why I have been a bridesmaid so many times) I KNOW that there is NO way they love playing the standard Bridal shower "games." I put quotations around the word because I do not consider them games. Do you know why I don't consider them games? Because they are not fun. Games are supposed to be fun and digging through your purse to find an expired coupon, safety pin and loose button is not. We (we as in myself and all the intelligent, capable women I know attending these showers) also do not enjoy wrapping each other's carefully straightened head of hair in toilet paper in hopes that the bride will think it looks like a beautiful veil! Most of the time, even the "winner" of the Toilet Paper Bride "game" ends up looking like a brain surgery patient! Who came UP with this stuff? If we must play games, why don't we stick to the legit ones like Taboo and Guestures?!? I mean really.

What I DO like is that refreshing sherbet punch at all the showers! Yum. Why wouldn't one love sweet rainbow sherbet mixed with a bubbly 2 liter bottle of 7up, all presented in a crystal bowl with matching ladle? Delicious. Now THAT idea was a good one.
I believe that we should be the change we want to see...(a saying I certainly didn't coin) and therefore if Bride is down with it, we should STOP playing these ridiculous games! Why can't we enjoy normal food instead of tiny triangled cucumber sandwiches? We can. Yes we can. Si se puede. Let's make these 3 hour early Saturday afternoon events more fun! And whatever you do (as the wonderfully committed bridesmaid you are) don't leave out the Rainbow Punch!

I MAY be high maintenence

I like to flippantly look through my "Eharm" matches, sort of like casually browsing an US Weekly. I don't spend a lot of time (mostly due to not having it) reading every word, studying every picture and on and on. I'm really just looking for the quick facts and only paying close attention to things that catch my eye. In the magazine this might be an Oscars' fashion centerfold, on the Eharm this could be "Height 6'5"under the basic info portion. For me, there are two options after a quick scan of a close or to go forward with that first round of significantly deep questions. So I guess it comes down to I either don't care to ever meet you OR I'm interested in knowing how often you find yourself laughing a) You crack yourself up b) You laugh often but get serious when you need to...I think you get the picture here.

After a fierce talking-to from one of my parentals, I try really hard not to be "too harsh." It's a good thing this blog is blocked from a certain place of work! I'm thinking the "You'll be Closed if..." post may have been exactly what I was accused of! According to Mom, that guy may have a "bad photo" (or 4) and "you can't judge someone on one thing they say...they may not like what YOU have to say" to which I retort, "yea okay..." Between you and I, the truth is, I don't really care if they don't like what I have to say. At least I know that YOU do, generally speaking ;)

All that being said, I'll now go on to rant (for lack of a better word in my post-Sunday-nap haze) about what goes through my head while sizing up my many a matches. These things may be evidence to the fact I am, dare I say it...High Maintenance. I'm not referring to the "HM" gals that take hours to get ready (cmon I don't even shower half the time), require great accommodations (really? throw me in a closet and I'm likely to fall asleep) or even those HMers that constantly shop (okay I'm getting closer). I believe I may be high maintenance in regards to those minor details that don't even run past most's minds.
This evening the following facts/reasoning following them in my sick, sick mind, resulted in some mass CLOSE OUTS:
1) Fact-Gamer photo. In one of the photos, in which he looked attractive btw, Mr Match had a video game remote in his hand. What my sick mind concludes from this-You love playing video games, are possibly immature, lazy and have A.D.D.

2) Fact-Messy room in the background. Again this is a photo related non negotiable. And the sick mind concludes- You are messy. Two words. Not OK.

3) Fact-Written that you wish more people would notice your "deepness" which you refer to as a "flowing, deep river." Um...this one is easy. Conclusion- You are either TOO deep for myself or you are pretending to be because you think chicks dig it, most likely the second option.

4) Fact-Photo of you in a sweaty bar has a caption explaining that you are singing Journey. Sick conclusion- You live in P.B. and have a tribal band tattoo somewhere on your body.

5) Fact-You are below 26 and in the military. Sick conclusion- You are too young for me and are gone all the time OR stationed but hanging out with a bunch of dudes all day, leading to the same conclusion as the messy match-immaturity.
Turns out I'm not ashamed of my high maintenance behaviors, being that I just wrote them out for you to read...and provided just a little sampling of the sickness going on up there. Hey some things aren't negotiable. Like singing cliche songs and not putting your clothes away. Duh.

Monday, March 1, 2010

In the most NON cynical way...

I should say "in the LEAST cynical way," but it just didn't catch me as much as my grammatically incorrect title written above.

It's coming out tonight...The big "C" in me, which by the way, I always initially spell with an "S." The fact that I write this word often enough to have a habit related to it is probably an unfortunate sign, or perhaps one that means I'm super reflective and honest about who I am??? No, it definitely just means I'm a cynic. Damn it.

I can't help but write (and put out into the world) something on tonight's current event...and a "status update" on Facebook would just not do the trick.

For those of you that followed "The Bachelor: On the Wings of Love" this season, you'll have at least a faint idea of what I'm talking about. For those of you that did not follow, you're WELCOME for giving you this useful and critical opinion on the whole opinion which I encourage you to take on.

Here we go...
Really Pilot Jake? Really? You chose the two polar opposites that existed on the show. The woman that talks in a sweet little voice (although to me it sounds as if there is a biscuit stuck in her trachea), who even when you "don't chose" her goes on to thank you for the experience, compliment you and never...stop...smiling?! Your second choice was the girl that no other girl in the "house" (or the motor home in this particular season, ABC's low budge?) liked! Really? Out of 25 females, NO ONE likes her? hmmm. I know that it's standard for one's MOM to assume/insist that when other females are mean to her daughter it's because "they're jealous," but c'mon you're a grown should know better than that.

Here's my theory, I know it's weird to hear me say that because I just never have theories on anything...especially deep and convicting theories!

Vienna, the one who won Jake's heart (and a series of roses which are definitely dead by now) is the girl that Jake the conservative/Texan accented/pilot could never get. He was always the nice guy. The hot blonde (fake blonde revealed her roots by episode 5) with extensions, tattoos and just a tad bit of white-trash-fashion-sense (think daisy dukes, off the shoulder shirt with white wife beater tank revealed underneath) ever looked at twice! She never gave the Jakes of her high school (or probably junior college) a chance at all! And so as Mr Wings, you're intrigued! All of the sudden you are "The Bachelor" and if that's not enough of an ego boost for ya, you got the "hot" (quotes on purpose) bad girl falling "in love" (more loaded quotes) with you.

SCORE! Now you can go through the rest of your life trying to persuade the women in your family, i.e your MOTHER, that she really is "sweet," and hoping that the 23 year-old, bad girl you so luckily ended up with doesn't CHEAT on you!

Some men will just never learn.

Okay I'm done...I think I'll check my Eharmony account now. Good night.